


Chasing Hermione

by keelhaulrose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 08:01:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14890649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelhaulrose/pseuds/keelhaulrose
Summary: Hermione has been hunting with the Winchesters for a while, and needs a break. She goes on vacation with her friends to rest, relax, and, most importantly, get her desires for Dean out of her system. Dean quickly realizes that he's developed feelings for the witch, and decides to go after her.





	Chasing Hermione

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JenniseiBlack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniseiBlack/gifts).



> A/N: A million thanks to my beta, my SPN cheerleader, and the wonderful ladies running this exchange.
> 
> Prompt: Hermione leaves on vacation for some me time to relax, trying to let go of her feelings for her best friend. Her "best friend" realizes he is in love with her and goes after her even though she is on vacation.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from either the HP universe or the Supernatural one, and that's probably for the best

            “This place looks fantastic,” Jo sighed, swiping through a few more pictures of a picturesque mansion sitting on a pristine beach. She and her friend, Hermione Granger, were sitting on Bobby Singer's couch, gathered together for the first day of their makeshift Christmas vacation.

 

            “Six nights, seven days of nothing but ocean views, sun, alcohol, and, best of all, no bloody monsters,” Hermione replied with a smile. “It'll be nice to see my mates again. I haven't seen them in a while, they're starting to get worried that I got ripped apart by something horrid.”

 

            “Oh, look at this!” she exclaimed, and she turned the screen towards Hermione. “I searched for places nearby and a very interesting result popped up.”

 

            “A nude beach?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

 

            “If the men hanging out are half as good as the ones in the picture...” she smirked as Sam Winchester emerged from the bathroom and sat on a chair next to them.

 

            “It has been a while,” Hermione replied evenly.

 

            “More than a while,” Sam announced.

 

            “I will hex you,” she smiled, slapping his arm.

 

            “A while since what?” Dean asked as he strolled in from outside, grabbing a couple beers from the fridge as he sat down and sliding one to Sam.

 

            “Since I've gotten a little adult action,” Hermione replied, and Dean spluttered a moment, placing his hand over his mouth to avoid spitting some out.

 

            “I wasn't aware that was some kind of secret,” she added. “I'm always with you two, and the last time I even attempted to have a gentleman caller you nearly ran him over with your car.”

 

            “That was an accident!” he protested, and Sam and Jo exchanged a look.

 

            “He didn't take it that way,” she shot back.

 

            “That pansy didn't deserve the time he got with you,” he replied.

 

            “I wasn't planning on spending much time with him. Just enough to satisfy a need or two,” she rolled her eyes.

 

            “He didn't seem that he'd last that long,” he grumbled.

 

            Hermione shook her head as her watch beeped. “That's my cue. Not that I'm eager to get rid of you lot for a few days or anything, I will miss you at least part of the time.”

 

            “Have fun,” Jo smiled as the group stood in unison, holding her arms out for a hug. “ _Lots_ of fun, preferably with the hottest man on the beach.”

 

            “I will,” she promised with a smile.

 

            “Hey, hey, hey,” Dean frowned. “No. Don't encourage it.”

 

            Jo smirked as she let go of Hermione, which only caused Dean's scowl to deepen.

 

            “Don't do anything I wouldn't do,” Sam smiled widely.

 

            “You do realize that doesn't limit me much,” she chuckled as she gave him a hug. Then she turned to Dean, but the two of them looked at each other for a long moment before either spoke.

 

            “Don't do anything I _would_ do,” Dean said with a half-hearted attempt at a smile.

 

            “Now _that_ is limiting,” she smirked, wrapping her arms tightly around him. “Take care of yourself while I'm gone. Don't go hunting anything too dangerous.”

 

            “When, in the three years you've known me, have you ever known me to _not_ go after something that was insanely dangerous?” he asked, keeping a tight hold of her.

 

            “That's precisely why I'm worried,” she replied. “I'm not there to magic you out of a bad situation, I'm afraid you've lost a bit of that instinct.”

 

            He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Don't worry about me, Granger,” he said softly, shooting her a smile. “I'll be alright. You go and have fun, just not _too_ much fun.”

 

            “I'll try not to,” she replied, giving him another quick hug before stepping back and picking up a bag from the floor. “I'll be back before you know it.”

 

            “Looking forward to it,” Dean smiled, but it quickly faded as she Disapparated. He looked at the spot she had been standing a moment before turning to sit back down, but he found himself standing face-to-face with Sam and Jo, who each had a smug look on their face.

 

            “This isn't good,” he muttered, pushing past them, opening a secret compartment in the bookshelf, and pulling out a bottle of whiskey.

 

            “Hey! I just bought that!” Bobby snapped as he and Ellen emerged from the kitchen.

 

            Dean reached into his pocket and threw a few bills on the coffee table, then opened the top and took a long pull.

 

            “Could you maybe act just a little civilized?” Ellen huffed, retreating into the kitchen long enough to retrieve a glass, which she shoved in Dean's hand.

 

            Dean tipped the glass and poured himself a generous measure before placing the bottle in arm's reach.

 

            “What is with those looks?” Bobby asked, nodding at Jo and Sam.

 

            “Just basking in my brother's social ineptitude,” Sam replied.

 

            “My what?” Dean asked, turning to look at him.

 

            “Dean,” Jo sighed. “If you had been any more possessive back there you might as well have just gone and pissed on her leg.”

 

            “Jo!” Ellen snapped.

 

            “Excuse me?” Dean's eyebrow shot up.

 

            “Come on, you didn't notice your very loud objections when Hermione even hinted at having a little meaningless sex on her trip?” Jo raised an eyebrow.

 

            “I did not...”

 

            “Yes, you did,” Sam interrupted firmly. “You would have put up less objections if we suggested  she vacation with some demons for a week.”

 

            “You guys are nuts,” he grumbled, downing the drink and pouring another.

 

            “You know what? I'm done. I'm tired of putting up with you being stubborn and miserable,” he said, sitting next to Dean and pulling the bottle away from him. “Every time Hermione goes off to do something else you become a jerk. And I have to deal with it for days or weeks until she comes back because you won't admit you love her and don't like not being around her and the thought that she might find someone else even for a few minutes.”

 

            “I don't...”

 

            “Yeah, you do,” Jo snapped. “It hasn't exactly been hard to notice. You're a terrible flirt, Dean Winchester, but you're different with her. More comfortable and more anxious all at the same time. It's practically written across your face each time you look at her. You've been in love with that girl for the past six months.”

 

            “More than that,” Sam corrected.

 

            “We only see you once every few months and we could see that,” Ellen added.

 

            “We're used to seeing you on edge, itching to start a fight with any monster you come across, but when you're with her you at least want to relax a while, have a talk, laugh a little,” Jo continued. “When she's not with you you start to look at everyone in here as though they might have fangs because you need to get your emotions out somehow.”

 

            “I am not in love with her,” Dean protested with a smile and a shake of his head. “She's just... my best mostly normal human friend.”

 

            “Ugh, you are _hopeless_ ,” Jo practically growled.

 

            “She might be your best friend, but that doesn't mean you don't have feelings for her,” Sam said gently.

 

            “No, I don't,” Dean shook his head. “Because feelings... feelings suck. They complicate things. They make things that should be easy difficult. They get people hurt.”

 

            “Yeah, they do,” he agreed. “But that doesn't mean that you don't have them. You might have convinced yourself that you don't love her, that those feelings are the type of feelings people get when they can have actual friendships, but it's pretty obvious you're in love with Hermione.”

 

            “When the hell did you become Dr. Phil?” he grumbled.

 

            “Fine. Continue to be miserable,” he shot back. “Convince yourself that you don't have a problem with Hermione. Convince yourself that you're totally fine with the idea of her lying on that nude beach, surrounded by guys staring at her...”

 

            “Shut up! Don't talk about her like that!” he shouted. He glared at Sam, but the longer he did the more a look of realization came across his face. He looked from Sam, to Jo, to Ellen, and finally to Bobby, but no one gave him a sympathetic word.

 

            “You know, they're right, ya idjit,” Bobby nodded.

 

            “Son of a bitch!” he grumbled, standing up and digging in his pocket for his keys. Without another thought he walked out of the house, climbed into the Impala, and took off down the road.

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

            “I still can't believe you got that,” Ginny said, eyeing the anti-possession symbol just above the cup of Hermione's bikini top. They were sunbathing on the deck of the house they had rented by the ocean, occasionally looking out at Harry, Ron, George, and Charlie, who were out surfing. Inside they could hear Bill, Fleur, and Ron's wife Pansy tending to their brood of small children, and not too far away Teddy Lupin was building a replica of Hogwarts out of sand.

 

            “I still can't believe _that_ ,” Hermione replied, nodding towards the swell of Ginny's lower abdomen.

 

            “ _That_ wouldn't have been such a surprise if you actually came round to visit us on occasion,” the redhead scoffed. “We haven't seen you in months.”

 

            “I'm sorry monsters aren't exactly the predictable sort. I'll ask if they can get on a schedule, but I doubt they're going to listen.”

 

            “Did it hurt? I heard Muggle tattoos hurt.”

 

            “It wasn't too bad,” she shrugged. “I'm guessing less painful than being used by a demon as a meat-suit.”

 

            “You had to go and say something to make things weird, didn't you?” she sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don't like hearing about your work? Except those two brothers you run around with, you can talk about them.”

 

            “There's nothing to talk about,” Hermione replied.

 

            “Really? I thought you fancied the older one. Dan, was it?”

 

            “Dean, and yes, I did fancy him. For a long while. But he doesn't seem interested in me that way, and I don't want to make it awkward. I've given up on that. This trip is giving me a week away from him to sort of reset my thoughts, and let those particular thoughts go.”

 

            “You mean having a good shag and getting it out of your system.”

 

            “Perhaps,” she said, eyeing Charlie Weasley as he stood in the shallows of the ocean, laughing at something George had said before the two started paddling back out towards the waves.

 

            “My brother?” Ginny raised an eyebrow.

 

            “Why not? I know he's your brother, so you probably aren't looking at him like that, but he looks good.”

 

            “He's very happy being a bachelor.”

 

            “Bloody hell, I was talking about a shag, Gin, not marriage.”

 

            Ginny sighed dramatically. “If you expect me to actively encourage you shagging my brother for sport...” she grumbled, but she smirked.

 

            “I believe you care to think about my sex life about as much as I care to think about yours,” she chuckled. “Though I guess I should be happy that I'll finally have a little Potter to spoil.”

 

            “You know Harry is going to ask you and Ron to be godparents. We haven't formally discussed it, but I can't imagine him willing to ask anyone else.”

 

            “And you know I will enthusiastically agree.”

 

            “Of course I do, but just don't go disappearing on hunts again. We don't want to have to chase you down to formally ask.”

 

            “I can't make promises about that. I can't predict where the monsters will pop up.”

 

            “I know. But we worry about you.”

 

            Hermione bit her lip and watched as George caught a wave and started riding in, but about halfway to the shore it was obvious he was going to lose his footing, so he did a flip off the side, landing sprawled-limb in a splash of surf. She smiled as she could hear the far-off sound of Harry and Ron's taunts, and she watched appreciatively as Charlie pulled himself up on his board to start riding the next wave. The muscular dragon trainer agilely maneuvered the board through the water, abs tight to keep upright, and Hermione couldn't help but watch as he made it nearly all the way in, but at the last moment the board was jostled. He was thrown forward at the same time the board bucked up, hitting him in the side of the head, and he disappeared under the water.

 

            “Charlie!” Hermione called, bolting up and darting across the sand, diving in without a second thought, but by the time she made it out to him Charlie was standing in the chest-deep water.

 

            “Wotcher, Granger,” he shot her a crooked smile.

 

            “Are you alright?” she asked.

 

            “Just a little bump,” he smiled. “I've had much worse.”

 

            “You're bleeding,” she pointed out, nodding towards his temple.

 

            “Am I?” he reached up, touching the spot.

 

            “Come on, I'll mend that for you,” she said.

 

            “Yes, ma'am,” he nodded, gathering the board and following her onto the sand. She led him inside, sitting him at the kitchen table and pulling her wand.

 

            “I wanted to say, nice reflexes out there, Granger,” he smiled at her as she cleaned the area around the wound.

 

            “Well, when you and I do the kind of jobs we do fast reflexes are a necessity, as are healing spells.”

 

            “Yeah, Ron was trying to tell me about that. Some gibberish about monsters and ghosts and, if I remember correctly, demons.”

 

            “You do remember correctly,” she nodded, healing the wound and checking it before sitting down. He summoned two beers as she continued, “It's been a bit of a wild ride, really. Lots of things Hagrid probably would have deemed cute.”

 

            “Wow. I think I'll stick with the dragons,” he chuckled, shaking his head before taking a drink.

 

            “It's not all dealing with monsters and demons. Most of the time we're saving people, and that's the important part of it.”

 

            “Is that why you and Ron didn't work out?” he asked. “You running off to fight dangerous creatures? I love my brother, but he doesn't seem the type to be okay with his witch doing something like that.”

 

            She thought for a moment. “I didn't start hunting until after he and I broke up. Really, it was just a matter of where we were in our lives. I still wanted to travel and do things, and he was more than ready to settle down and start a family, which, you notice, he did within a year of our split.”

 

            “So how did you wind up hunting?”

 

            “While I was traveling I decided to stop for a while in the states, just for a change of scenery, I didn't plan on staying more than a year. I took a couple classes to get me up to date with Muggle technology, and started exploring message boards that had to deal with things I was interested in, a lot of local history and such. In that I became somewhat infamous for being able to translate some runes on an old tablet, a part of some old spell some demon-made witches had written a long time ago. Not too long after that I got a phone call from a man who identified himself as Sam Winchester, saying he had an object with some runes on it that he couldn't figure out, and asked if I could take a look. The next day I met him and his brother in some small town in Indiana, and together we went after some witches. Demon-made witches, I mean.”

 

            “How did that work, with you being a witch yourself?”

 

            “It didn't go over well at first,” she laughed. “But then I saved Sam when one of the witches had him cornered, and after that they got a lot more tolerant.”

 

            Outside someone called for them, and they stood in unison and started back outside.

 

            “And you decided to join them?” he asked.

 

            “I asked to tag along. At first they were hesitant, especially Dean. I sort of popped in and out for the better part of a year and a half, staying a few days on a case, but not traveling with them. It seemed like the longer it went, the more they asked me to be around. Then I did something that Dean couldn't ignore, and after that I started traveling with them full time.”

 

            “What did you do?”

 

            “I saved Sam's life again. He had been stabbed in the back, and it didn't look good. But I got there just as it happened, had the right potions on me, and I gave him a sip of liquid luck before taking some myself. I thought it might not be enough for a moment, but he pulled through. After that Dean didn't seem to want to even travel without me, so I joined them full time.”

 

            “You must really enjoy it, then.”

 

            “Supernatural monsters are my dragons,” she smirked.

 

            “You wish you could handle a dragon, Granger,” he chuckled.

 

            “Hmmm... maybe just a dragon-keeper, then,” she replied, shooting him a smile before walking back towards Ginny. She looked back over her shoulder and felt a flit of excitement in her chest as she saw Charlie looking at her appreciatively before he winked and headed back onto the sand.

 

XXXXXXX

 

            He fumbled for his phone as he blinked a few times, trying to keep awake though sleep threatened to take over. Dean had been driving for fifteen hours and had at least another ten to go before he reached the house Hermione was staying at.

 

            “Yeah, Sammy?” he asked irritably for a salutation.

 

            “How is it going?” Sam's voice came through, sounding a bit concerned.

 

            “I'm starting to get tired, thinking of stopping for a few,” he admitted.

 

            “Yeah, about that...”

 

            “What?”

 

            He could hear Sam's hesitation. “Hermione sent Jo a picture.”

 

            He felt his stomach drop. “What?” he demanded.

 

            “I'm sending it to you now,” he replied cautiously. A moment later Dean heard a beep indicating a message had arrived, and he opened the attachment. It was a picture of Hermione, cheek-to-cheek with a muscular redheaded man. They were smiling wide, Hermione's skin starting to tan in her bikini, her chest pressed against the man's muscular torso.

 

            “Jo asked, and Hermione just said she's 'working on it',” Sam sounded sympathetic.

 

            “Son of a bitch,” he growled, hanging up as a surge of energy shot through him. He pressed the gas pedal down a little more and Baby's engine happily roared as the car sped up.

 

XXXXXXX

 

            “Okay, okay!” Charlie said as the dinner table roared with laughter. The group was gathered on the back patio of the rented house, a spread of food worthy of Molly Weasley filled nearly every available space between the plates. Their dinner was illuminated by lights above, and through an open window they could hear the laughter of the children who were watching a movie before bedtime. “It was a dumb mistake, but it was a baby so it's only a little scar! And it's a bloody good story!”

 

            “I wouldn't admit to having a dragon-bite on your arse to most women if I were you,” Bill chuckled.

 

            “It's not like there's no one else here who has scars from a boneheaded mistake,” he waved an accusatory finger around the table. “I know for a fact my dear sister has a good one on her leg from when she fell off her broom.”

 

            “I was pushed!” Ginny protested, going scarlet.

 

            “There was no one around you!” Ron shot back.

 

            “By the wind,” she added, rolling her eyes.

 

            “And let's not pretend like George isn't covered in scars from whatever the hell he's concocting,” Charlie continued. “ And I bet Granger has a few good ones.”

 

            Hermione put down her wine glass, a smirk playing across her face. “Do you want to see my best?” she asked.

 

            “Let's see it.”

 

            Hermione stood, pushing the small bag she always kept at her side behind her and lifting the hem of the sundress she was wearing, exposing her hip where a long pink line extended from her upper hip to nearly her knee.

 

            “Ouch!” Charlie winced. “What the hell managed to give you that?”

 

            “Believe it or not the vengeful spirit of a three year old,” she replied.

 

            “A what?” several voices asked.

 

            “A little child who, well, we're eating, so I'll spare you the details of what happened. Let's just say he liked to play with any women who came into his house, proclaiming them his mommy, except he played with knives.”

 

            “That's... wow,” Charlie murmured, reaching out and running a finger down the scar.

 

            Suddenly she dropped her dress as the sounds of a rumbling engine filled the air. A moment later a pair of headlights illuminated the group, and they could hear a few chords of the Animal's “Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood” before the car shut off and a man climbed out.

 

            “What in the ruddy hell are you doing here, Dean Winchester?” she demanded as she took a few steps away from the group to confront him. “If this has something to do with a monster you can turn your car around and get the hell away from me, I told you, I'm _not_ hunting this week.”

 

            “Is it always monsters with you?” he asked.

 

            “It's always monsters with _you_ ,” she snapped. “One after the other, who needs a bloody break? Every time I suggest taking one something else comes up and we don't. It's how you deal with situations you don't really want to deal with. I _needed_ this break, Dean. I needed to get away from you for a little while before you drove me spare!”

 

            “That's because there's always monsters, and when it was just me and Sammy we were good, but when you started coming with we were amazing. We saved loads of lives, and that's the whole point of all this! Saving people!”

 

            “At the expense of ourselves,” she replied. “I'm saving myself by being here, by being away from you for a bit.”

 

            “God, Hermione, don't you think I know that? Don't you know that I think you deserve nothing more than _living_ in paradise without a damn care in the world for the rest of your life?”

 

            “What are you talking about?” she asked.

 

            He looked at her and took a deep breath. “I hate you hunting,” he confessed. “If it were up to me you'd be somewhere safe, but I can't do that, because I can't give you up.” He took a deep breath before adding, “I... I don't just want you around, Hermione. I _need_ you there. And not just in a 'save my ass with magic' way. It's much deeper than that. I...” he swallowed hard, then swore to himself. “Why can't I say it?” he growled, then looked up at her and sighed deeply. “Please, tell me you know what I'm trying to say.”

 

            Realization dawned on Hermione's face. “Dean,” she said softly. “Come here.”

 

            He smiled and took a couple steps forward, stopping in front of her, but a moment later yelped in pain and looked down at his arm where she had made a shallow cut with a small pocket knife.

 

            “What the hell?” he asked.

 

            “Silver,” she said, flipping the knife closed.

 

            “Really? I start to pour my heart out to you, and you thought I might be a shifter?” he asked. “What's next, holy water?”

 

            “I always have been exceptionally good at foreplay,” she shrugged, holding up a flask with a cross on it.

 

            “You know it's the boy scouts who are the ones who are always prepared, not the girls,” he said, snatching the flask and taking a sip.

 

            “Constant vigilance,” she replied smugly.

 

            “This is not how I expected this to go,” he sighed, handing her the flask back.

 

            “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

 

            “I've driven the last twenty five hours to get here, and the whole time I had this idea in my head on how this would go, but I guess spontaneous displays of affection are more of a Sammy thing.”

 

            “Really? You expected something different? I waited for you to notice me as more than the witch who helped you out, Dean, for two bloody years. This whole trip was for me to get away from you for a while, and here you are and you said, or at least you tried to say...” she couldn't finish.

 

            “Yeah, I did,” he nodded. “When I pictured coming here there was one thing it always ended with. Something I have been wanting to do for a long time.”

 

            “What would that be?” she asked.

 

            “This,” he said, placing a hand on either side of her head and pulling her towards him to give her a long, slow kiss. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him tightly to her. One of his hands moved to wind itself in her hair while the other dropped to her waist before sliding around her back, pushing her into him as their mouths opened and they deepened the kiss.

 

            “Oi, take a breath!” Ron's shout finally broke them apart, though Dean's arm still held Hermione tightly to him.

 

            “What's up, witches?” Dean asked with an awkward smile.

 

            “Oh, relax,” Ginny told the group, who were starting to get up, standing up herself and walking towards Hermione and Dean. “Wow, you weren't lying when you said he was gorgeous,” she smirked as she looked over Dean a few times. “So, um, I'm going to speak for everyone here when I say that Dean here looks like he hasn't slept in days and that you probably shouldn't make him wait, Hermione. Nice to meet you, Dean, we'll make formal introductions tomorrow over breakfast, yeah?”

 

            Hermione looked back towards the group, so Harry jerked his head towards the house. “Go upstairs, Hermione,” he ordered, and there were a few murmurs of assent. “Just remember the silencing charm.”

 

            “Right. Upstairs,” Hermione nodded, grabbing Dean's hand and making towards the house, but as they got to the door she yelped in surprise as he picked her up and carried her inside bridal-style. He took the stairs up and stood at the top, looking around.

 

            “Which one?” he asked.

 

            “End of the hall, on the left,” she replied, and he hurried to the room, kicking the door shut behind him and putting her down while looking around.

 

            “Swanky digs,” he said, looking over the canopy bed and tossing his jacket on a chaise lounge in the corner.

 

            Hermione finished casting the silencing charm around the room and placed her wand on the dresser. “Please tell me you didn't come all this way to marvel at the house,” she smirked.

 

            “No, ma'am,” he pulled her to him, kissing her again. When he pulled back he run a hand through her hair and gave her a half-smile.

 

            “What's wrong?” she asked, looking concerned.

 

            “I'm wondering if this is real. I'm starting to think that I'm tied up by some djinn somewhere. Things don't go this good for me.”

 

            “Dean,” she chuckled, holding up his arm where the shallow cut she had made had started to heal. “Would a djinn have stabbed you, thinking you're more likely to be a shifter than Dean Winchester almost proclaiming love for someone?”

 

            He chuckled as well, pulling her to him, and she became acutely aware of his erection pressing into her lower abdomen as she looked up at him. “Maybe this particular djinn is smart enough to know that Hermione Granger is too intelligent to just accept such a declaration from some moron like me.”

 

            “Why don't you touch me and decide then if I'm some image conjured up by some djinn?” she murmured, standing on tip-toe to give him a lingering kiss. He pulled her dress slowly upwards until he had to break contact to pull it over her head. A soft groan escaped him when he saw she was wearing nothing but a pair of knickers.

 

            “I am the luckiest man alive,” he muttered before picking her up by her rear and wrapping her legs around his waist, crashing his lips into hers. He carried her to the bed, pushing the wispy curtains aside and lying her down. He pulled his shirt off before climbing atop her, hungrily kissing her neck as he settled between her legs. She closed her eyes and ran her hands lazily across his back, her fingernails curling into his skin as he kissed lower, flicking his tongue across one of her nipples. She hissed and tightened her legs around him. He chuckled, reveling in how responsive she was, and brought a hand to play with her other breast. He rolled her peak between his thumb and forefinger and she let off a soft “Dean,” which caused his erection to throb. After playing with her breasts for a while, when her chest started heaving and her hips pressed insistently into his he finally started kissing lower. In a practiced motion he reached behind her, grabbing the top of her knickers and pulling down, rolling to one side so he could pull them fluidly off her body and flinging them to the side.

 

            “You are so beautiful,” he murmured as he looked her over.

 

            “And you are overdressed,” she replied with a smirk, fingering his belt.

 

            He chuckled and slid off the bed long enough to take his boots, socks, pants, and boxers off. Hermione eyed him appreciatively as he climbed back into bed with her, and she grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down, crashing her lips to his as she climbed atop him and guided him inside her. He groaned into her mouth, his hands clutching her hips tightly as he felt her start to rock against him. Hermione sat up, placing her hands on his chest as she moved atop him, loving the feeling of Dean's hungry eyes watching her as he slowly started to lose control underneath her. Without warning he pushed himself into a sitting position before lifting her up, moving quickly to lay her back down and push her legs apart before entering her once again. She rolled her hips up to meet his in an ever-quickening rhythm as he kissed her chest, then neck, then lips again. Her head fell back and a cry escaped from her lips as her walls tightened around him, and moments later the feeling of her release washing over her and the look of ecstasy on her face caused him to finish as well.

 

            He held her for the first few moments, kissing her a few times, before slipping from her but still staying above her, relishing in the sight of her satisfied face.

 

            “I thought I told you not to do anything I would do,” he smirked.

 

            She laughed and playfully swatted his shoulder. “I hope you know I intend to break that promise several more times while I'm here,” she replied.

 

            “I like the sound of that,” he smiled. 


End file.
